Racking the Action
by The Idiot Savant
Summary: UPDATE! Story reformat, I'm rewriting the chapter and changing the sotry a bit. Stay tuned!In a desperate plea Nick tries to save his friends and family from the viral outbreak portrayed in Dawn Of The Dead. Will they live to see the light of day untainte
1. Chapter 1

Racking the action

The early morning sun began to rise over the horizon, spilling yellow and orange across the sky. The road seemed barren, desolate. The streetlights were still on, their pale florescent shine dull in the new morning light. A dirty old white Saturn made its way down the road at a steady pace. The driver sat with his seatbelt securely fastened with a frown on his face mirroring the large black rings under his eyes. He lazily drummed his fingers on the steering wheel with one hand while with the other; he picked up his hot cup of coffee and took a sip. He put the cup down in between his legs right up against his crotch and looked at the clock which read "5:56", he then turned on the radio. The AM station 1010 local news came on immediately. The man cursed "Why does mom always have to fuck with the radio? " As the man moved his hand to turn the radio to another channel, his hand froze and his mouth slowly dropped open as he realized what the broadcast was saying.

"…five o' six, this morning American Airlines flight QRA 967 on its way from New York to Sydney was shot down by the Australian Air Force after radioing to the control tower that passengers on the flight were ill. After repeated attempts to turn the plane back the Australian Air Force had no choice but to take out the 747 before it broke the countries quarantine zone. In a statement, the Australian government apologizes but says "In order to defend our country we are willing to take all necessary risks." As many other countries across the globe including the UK, France, Germany, Turkey, Russia, Poland, China, Japan, and South Korea the President has just declared Martial Law. All air traffic has been grounded, and the borders have been closed. Citizens are encouraged to stay in their homes as local authorities begin to secure New York City and the outlaying suburbs and towns on Long Island."

The report pausing for a moment the man stared at the radio, his face taken completely by confusion and fear "What the hell is going on?"

"Units of the National Guard have been deployed all over the country to assist Police forces in securing and safe guarding the capitol and the major cities. The mobilization of the National Guard has calmed many citizens, however with the outbreak of multiple –in most cases violent- riots the NYPD has issued a curfew of nine am to six pm, any individuals seen outside will be considered a threat and given no warning before Police and National Guard units open fire." As the man in the car drove right through an intersection without looking, the newscaster coughed before continuing. An update on the FEMA press conference from earlier today, FEMA spokesperson Daniel Gibbons have confirmed that this explosion of violence worldwide is caused by an "infective virus". The virus not only kills the infected person but it reanimates the corpse. Reanimation can take anywhere from five to twenty minutes after the "infected" person dies." The man shook his head in disbelief as the memories of him playing his favorite video game series Resident Evil poked their way into his mind until he pushed them back down and continued to listen to the announcement.

"I am told to once again urge all citizens to stay indoors and secure all windows and doors. If you are already out and cannot return home, avoid all highways and parkways at all costs. Traffic from motorists stuck on these roads have made them impassable. It has been ten hours since the attacks have spread worldwide and there are reports from other news agencies across the world that nearly every country is experiencing the effects of the "Infective Virus". Australia, one of the few countries that has no reports of infection are –as stated earlier- defending their borders with the use of deadly force. If for some reason, you can not return home stay tuned for a list of areas in your community that are deemed "safe" by the local authorities."

The man turned off the radio with a quick twist of the knob. "What the fuck is going on out there? I heard nothing of this last night before bed. Not a goddamned thing!" Calming down he kept driving, trying to clear his mind and think straight. He started to hum a song that was stuck in his head, and after a moment laughed when he thought about the lyrics for a second.

"….all the shots I take  
what difference did I make  
All the shots I take  
I spit back at you

I won't go away, with a bullet in my back  
Right here I'll stay, with a bullet in my back

Shoot me  
Take a shot!"

He looked ahead down the road and saw that he had the green light. Not that it mattered. There were barely any other cars on the road. He picked up his coffee again and began to take a sip when a white car speed past him and into the intersection. At the same moment another car, a red one was coming the opposite way. It ran the red light and the white car t-boned the red one. Both vehicles violently danced all over the road, and finally came to a stop in the middle of the intersection. The driver of the Saturn yelped as he spilled the hot coffee all over his lap. He slammed his foot on the breaks and began shooing the hot liquid off his lap.

"Shit" he muttered "Nick, why does bad shit always happen to you" He then remembered the crash outside. "Or around you" he asked himself as he unfastened his seatbelt, hopped out of the car and started running to the closer car, the white one. They way the car spun the front was now facing him, or what was left of it. The entire front was crushed into the rest of the car, with the pieces and parts of the cars littering the road. When he made his way over to the driver's side he looked in. He studied the only passenger with a wide-eyed gaze. He was surprised that the engine block was not sitting on her lap. He realized that in the impact, her head had slammed up against the steering wheel and blood was slowly oozing from the wound in her head and was now all over her and the interior of the car.

Quickly Nick pulled at the door but due to the impact it was wedged shut. He put his foot on the passenger door for leverage and his hand in the broken window and put all of his power into prying the door open. Suddenly the door gave way and hung limply on one hinge. Nick reached in and turned off the car, unbuckled the seat belt and pushed the women's head back. She rested limply on the seat, her chest still rose and fell in the motions of breathing but it was going quite slowly. A look of horror crept across his face as he realized the wound in the women's head was big, really big. He leaned over her and looked in the glove box where he found a dirty washcloth. He held into the women's head for a moment and looked towards the other car.

"Ma'am" he said, and was glad that there was not more then a hint of hysteria in his voice. "I have to go check on the other people hold on I'll be right back."

He left the already dark brown damp cloth on the women's head, knowing not much good will come of it with out someone applying pressure to it. He looked at the other car and saw it was a large red SUV and looked mostly all right, besides the fact blood was all over the inside part of the windshield and he couldn't see inside. He jogged over and tried to open the door, which came easily. However, unlike the door the sight inside didn't come as easily. Blood was everywhere, the two passengers a man and women were dressed in crimson. They stirred slightly, turning a little and moaning in pain.

"Are you ok?" Nick asked, then though to him, that's a fucking dumb question.

The people answered with more moaning and shifting from side to side again.

"Listen to me, I'm going to run over into that 7-11 and get help, I'll be right back, just hold on." Nick turned and ran across the empty road towards the 7-11 only glancing back to make sure the women in the white car was ok which she now had her hand on the washcloth and was trying not to move. He got to the 7-11, ran straight in, and stopped dead in his tracks.

The store was ransacked, candy and soda, canned foods and newspapers lay everywhere. Nick's heart began to race. He thought he was breathing heavy, although the blood pumping in his ears diminished all sound. A corpse lay on the dark off white colored tile floor, which was now stained red from the blood. The 7-11 employees' already maroon shirt was now covered in blood, staining it a dark crimson. The body lying on the floor was that of a large man. Tall and overweight, he was light skinned and bald. His face and his neck were torn apart. Pisces of white flesh and small chunks of muscle hung in ragged bits from the gapping holes.

Nick just stood there, staring wide eyed at the body. And after a moment turned and vomited on the floor. After clearing his throat, and spitting a few times on the floor, he turned back towards the body, the taste of coffee and bile still lingering at the back of his throat.

"What the fuck?" He asked the corpse.

His thoughts raced. What happened here? Did the man get robbed and tried to fight back? Why is his face cut up so much? Are the cops coming?

That last thought reminded him of the woman outside in the white car, and the others in the large truck. Carefully stepping around the body on the floor, Nick walked around and behind the counter. Looking for the phone he found it, dangling by the cord. Putting it back on the receiver for a moment he picked it back up and dialed.

9-1-1

The phone rang, and rang. Nick tapped his foot in impatience, trying not to peak over the counter at the body. The phone rang again and someone picked up.

"We're sorry, our circuits are currently busy; please try your call again later. Thank you."

"God damn recording" he murmured at the receiver as he hung up the phone. Picking it up he tried again.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"We're sorry, our circuits are currently busy; please try your call again later. Thank you."

"Fuck" Nick breathed. Not know what to do he tried again. And the same message played. Annoyed he slammed the phone down on the hook, and then looked around worriedly. If someone did try to rob this guy, they still might be here. He doubted it though, if someone wanted the money from the register they would have taken it and ran. This was probably just another one of those violent acts the radio was talking about. But the police radio also said the dead were rising, coming back to life. Shaking his head in amusement he left from behind the counter. Immediately the smile slid from his features as he tried not to look at the dead man on the floor.

"The dead were rising huh?"

Deciding to return outside he walked to the door, as he opened it up to leave, without stopping he looked at the cash registers. Both closed and undamaged.

As he walked towards the white car, he realized the woman was out on the road now, on the ground and another person was over her. Giving her mouth to mouth. Nick cursed himself for taking too long in the store. She must have slipped into shock from her injuries and stopped breathing! Nick started to run towards the women and the other person but suddenly stopped short just a few feet away. The man kneeling above the women wasn't giving her mouth to mouth he was tearing at her face with his teeth! Chunks of flesh were already missing from the women on the ground, and without her lips her face looked locked in a permanent smile. A grin. Death's grin. Slowly backing away he didn't know what to do but to run. He turned and ran down the empty stretch of road. Ran towards home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Car one seventeen, car one seventeen, what is your position, over?" The radio crackled loudly. "Car one seventeen where are you now? Road block two alpha three is requesting assistance, over." Nick just stood staring down into the driver's seat of the police car. The officer's body lay limp in the seat, still buckled in. His handgun lay on the floor by the pedals, empty, while blood covered the interior of the car. On the other side, the passenger side door stood open, no sight of the other officer. Nick grimly reached inside the car and turned the volume up on the police radio. Voices came pouring out.

"Dispatch, this is citizen control SWAT unit bravo two niner zero at road block two alpha three, where is the back up I requested, over."

"SWAT unit bravo two niner zero, this is dispatch. All units are committed, we're trying to route anything to you, but can't until a later time, over"

"Dispatch, do you have an ETA on the national guard, over"

"Rodger SWAT unit bravo two niner zero, ETA on the national guard is four hours minimal."

"Rodger dispatch, SWAT unit bravo two niner zero, out."

"Four hours, minimal?" Nick asked aloud.

Nick grabbed the tuner and began shifting through the channels. On almost every channel out came frenzied reports of casualties or units requesting backup.

"Dispatch, this is car five twelve, over at the Merrick train station, I require additional officers and an ambulance, officer down, I repeat, officer down!"

"Dispatch, this is Central, Long Beach PD is requesting additional units, over." "Dispatch, this is car one eleven nine, I require firetrucks and medical assistance at North Shore Hospital, the Hospital is……its burning up, the entire building is….., car one eleven nine, out."

"Dispatch, this is SWAT unit alpha five five four, I got men down, I require medical assistance, I repeat, officers down!"

"Dispatch, this is car seventeen at….."

The reports just kept flooding in through the airwaves.

Nick stared wide-eyed at the radio, as much for imagining the chaos as surprise for the fact that the police cannot handle what is happening.

"The worlds ending" Nick laughed as he shook his head slowly. For a moment he looked around at his surroundings.

Everything seemed too quiet compared to the mass hysteria still coming from the radio. The police car sat in middle of an empty stretch of road named Sunrise Highway. The road and the area around was empty, just plain empty. Not a single thing stirred, not even the birds were singing. Except for himself and the dead cop, he was alone. A scary thought. Nick nervously shifted his feet and stepped on something. He looked down to see broken glass, and empty bullet casings. The glass, from the driver's side door window of the cruiser and the casings from the officer's gun, they lay scattered about the plain gray pavement. He looked back up at the officer stuck in the seat. His throat was ripped out, plain and simple. His hands were covered with his own dried blood. A painful death, it had to have been. A scary death. Being trapped in the seat with crazed people clawing at him, as he sat there with nothing to do but to clutch the hole that was bitten into his neck, trying to scream while bleeding out all over himself. Nick blinked away the thought and cursed his imagination for running away with itself. He hated it when it did that, and it did it too often. Looking up at the sky Nick saw the sun wasn't even at the noon mark yet but it seems as if it's been a lifetime since walking into the seven eleven. As long as it felt, he remembers it as if it just happened; Nick knows he'll probably never forget, even if he tries.

A burst of static from the police officers radio brought Nick back to reality and he realized that if he didn't focus he would never make it out alive. He turned to reach inside the car again to silence the radio and the officer buckled into the seat lunged out at him! Nick fell backwards out of the way, as the officer tried vainly to claw at him. Still held in by the safety belt the officer screamed and howled in anger at not being able to reach Nick. Standing up and trying to move away, Nick tripped on himself and fell onto the pavement again. The crazed officer was pulling at the seat belt now, trying to get out of it. He almost made it out until a gunshot rang out. The bullet hit the officer in the car below the left eye, throwing his head back.

Nick looked up from the road at a police officer behind him. The officer stood in a classic shooter stance. Lowering his gun and holstering it he held out a hand for Nick to take. Taking it Nick made it back onto his own two feet. The officer that helped Nick was tall, as tall as Nick. His reddish hair was cut short in a military manner and his ice blue eyes were cold. When they fell on Nick he had to fight the urge to turn and look away. The officer was young, maybe in his late twenties early thirties. He just nodded his head and walked towards the squadcar. Unbuckling the seat belt that held the dead man to the car he grabbed an arm and pulled the body free. Dragging it across the pavement to the side of the road the officer didn't even look at Nick. But Nick looked; he stared at the officer as he bent down and took the extra clips of ammunition from the other mans belt. The officer then returned to the car and reached inside, turning off the radio that was still spewing static, and sat down on the pavement, with his back up against the car. Nick took that as his queue and sat down next to the man. Offering his hand Nick smiled "My names Nick."

The officer turned and looked at him and said "Doyle", plain and simple. Doyle then rested his head against the car and closed his eyes for just a moment.

Letting his hand fall Nick asked "Where were you going, Officer Doyle?

Doyle scrubbed his hands on his face vigorously. Looking at Nick he sighed "Me and……" Doyle paused. He sat looking at the body of the other officer for a long minute, and then continued "……My partner Jerry and I were answering a 911 emergency call from a 7-11 attendant that reported being attacked by 3 people." Nicks heart skipped a beat, "The dispatch operator told him to stay on the line but he stopped responding. We were on our way there when we were attacked by a large group of those things." Doyle put his face in his hands and started to cry silently. Nick didn't know what to do so he stood up and looked around, suddenly nervous that the group would return. After a moment officer Doyle stood up off the ground, ignoring a helping hand from Nick He reached inside the squadcar and pulled out the empty handgun. Ejecting the empty clip, he thumbed the slide lock, and then slammed in a new clip. He then turned to Nick and held the newly loaded firearm, and another clip for Nick to take.

With a questioning look Nick took the gun and the extra clip, placing the weapon into his right pocket and the clip into his left. Doyle walked towards the back of the car with his set of keys in hand and unlocked the trunk. In the trunk was a big white first-aid kit a large blue tarp and a metal case. Producing another key Doyle unlocked the metal case. Opening it he revealed 10 extra clips for the handgun and 2 boxes of 12 gauge shotgun shells. Smiling he closed the lid and put the metal box onto of the first-aid case and handed them both to Nick.

"Put them in the back seat" He said quietly.

Nodding Nick opened up the left side rear door and placed the boxes onto the floor behind the driver's seat. Closing the door Nick returned to the back of the car where Doyle was removing a dark blue Kevlar vest that had the word "Police" emblazoned in yellow. Handing the vest to Nick Doyle simply said "put this on." Once again Nick did what he was told without question. Shutting the trunk Doyle took the blue tarp with him and began laying it on the driver's seat of the car, covering the blood stains.

Nick finally spoke up "What are we doing?" he asked quietly yet firmly.

Doyle turned towards Nick and shook his head in approval at the vest, then turned back towards the tarp.

Nick was beginning to get annoyed "Officer what are we doing, where are we going to go?"

Without looking up from his task Doyle spoke "I'm deputizing you, I need your help. Since Jerry is…….we are going to answer the call from 7-11 attendant. Its just down the road.

Nick sighed, he didn't see that coming. "Officer, I just came from there." With that Doyle stopped what he was doing and looked up at Nick, his eyebrow arched in a questioning manner. The words just came out of Nick's mouth in a rush "I was driving to work in my friend's car and there was an accident. I went into the 7-11 to call for help but the man inside was dead. I tried calling 911 but all I got was a recording. I went back outside and the people in the accident were dead, being eaten from what I could tell. So I just abandoned my car and ran. Then that's when I found you." Nick felt tight in his chest and he realized he hasn't taken a breath since he began. Inhaling deeply, Nick began to stare off into space but was snapped out of it when Doyle simply said "Ok."

Nick burst like a dam "What do you mean "OK", people are dead; including your partner and all you can say is "OK"? What are we going to do now, Mr. Police officer? Are you even paying attention?"

Doyle stood silently staring off towards the side of the road and just said "Get in the car." With that he turned and climbed in, sitting on top of the blue tarp. Nick turned to look at what Doyle was staring at and he saw a skinny man running across the road right at him. The man was covered in blood, and horrible guttural screams were escaping his gaping mouth. Nick didn't think he just jumped into the car and slammed the door. Doyle floored the gas, peeling away leaving the running skinny man to ignore the car and run towards Jerry's abandoned body,

Nick turned towards Doyle and was startled to see a Remington 870 12 gauge shotgun in the dashboard holster. After a moment of looking at the gun he opened his mouth to ask where they were going but Doyle already began speaking. "We're headed to the intersection of Sunrise and Bellmore; there is a police blockade complete with ambulances and a SWAT team. It'll be safe there. You can keep the gun I gave you but tell me, do you know how to use a firearm?" Nick just nodded his head but Doyle looked at him again and asked "Ok, what's the name of the gun, and what caliber bullet does it fire?"

Nick smiled "It's a Glock 19 slandered police issue sidearm, it fires 9 millimeter bullets, and holds 17 per clip. It's also a very reliable weapon.

Now it was Doyle's turn to smile "Good, because now I know you won't shoot yourself in the foot you can take a couple extra clips from the box in the backseat. As the car raced down the road Nick began counting off how many clips he thought he could carry in the large pockets of his beige cargo pants.

After a while of sitting in silence, Officer Doyle reached over and turned the police radio back on. No voices came through now, only a slight hissing sound from the speakers. Doyle realized Nick was staring out the window at the road beyond the confides of the car. So far they passed several cars, abandoned on the road, driver's no where in sight. Also several bodies randomly littered the road, sitting in pools of their own blood. A few of the assailants were wondering around, some chasing after the car for a few moments before realizing they had no chance to catch up. Doyle figured he should try and get the kids mind off of the death around them, so he tried some friendly small talk.

"So Nick, do you have a girl friend?"

Nick just turned and looked at Doyle, subdued surprise marring his face.

"You know" Doyle continued "someone who cares about you other then your family?" Nick just stared "Come on, I'm just trying to make small talk. There has to be somebody."

Nick laughed "It seems the prospect of women evades me. It never works out right because I never know what to do."

Doyle nodded "I know what you mean kid, I was the same way too when I was your age. What are you 19, 20?"

"19."

"Ah, ok." Nodding Doyle turned back to looking at the road, they just passed an Applebees's, and just down the road he could see a gathering of cars in middle of the highway.

"AH, there's the blockade." Picking up the handset for the radio Doyle began speaking into it "Police blockade on the intersection of Bellmore and Sunrise, this is Officer Doyle, I'm on Sunrise headed north bound towards your position, over."

The radio hissed "Officer Doyle, this is SWAT unit bravo two niner zero at road block two alpha three, on the intersection of Bellmore and Sunrise, we see you and I have to say, you're a sight for sore eyes. I'll have a man move one of the barricades and you just pull your car in, ok? Over."

Doyle smiled again "Roger that SWAT unit bravo two niner zero, ETA is 30 sec, over and out." Doyle hung the handset up and turned off the radio. Ahead of them an officer was moving the wooden barricade and Doyle pulled his squadcar into the open space. Getting out Nick closed the door and looked around, sighing in relief. Around him were at least fifty Police and SWAT officers, all carrying large weapons like shotguns or submachine guns. Nick looked towards Doyle who was only now getting out of the car. The Remington 870 12 gauge and the metal box of extra bullets in hand. Suddenly one of the officers yelled "Contact! A golden pickup truck is heading north bound towards our position, traveling at high speeds."

With that every officer ran towards the line of cars facing the way Nick and Doyle just came from, all of them pointing their guns towards the incoming pickup. The pick up screeched to a halt only a few yards in front of the blockade. A young man, light colored with stubble on his cheeks, wearing a red hat stuck his head out the driver's side window. He looked around at the Police Officers for a moment and then began yelling "You guys better get the FUCK outta here in a hurry, about a hundred of those godless sons of bitches are chasing us and will be here soon!"

With that the man stuck his head back into the window and turned the car up onto the curb, driving around the police blockade down Bellmore Avenue into North Bellmore.

Nick stared as two people raised their heads out of the back of the pickup, one of them pale with red hair. Too late, he realized it was his good friend Mat Jones, the girl next to him he didn't know.

Running toward the speeding pickup, Nick waved his hands in the air franticly, screaming "JONESY, IT'S NICK! JONESY!"

Mat started waving his hands and screaming too, but Nick could not hear what he was saying. He just stood there staring off down the street at the retreating car, wondering what he was to do now.


End file.
